Temptation
by Kylara Kitsune
Summary: A smouldering glance across the crowd was all it took. Draco/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I swear, I'm living on a rollercoaster at the moment. One minute I'm up, the next I'm down. Regardless, I write. I don't own the characters, I just play with them.**

A smouldering glance across the crowded corridor was all it took, this time. Draco could feel his trousers getting tighter, and was grateful, once again, for the billowing black robes that were part of the Hogwarts uniform. She brushed against him, and her armful of books fell to the floor. He watched as she picked them up, firing a sharp comment in his direction.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy."

"Perhaps you ought to be more careful."

The words were nothing unusual - typical of the sort they'd fired at each other since they started at the school. Now, though, it had an entirely different meaning. To them, it sounded like:

"Meet me in the Astronomy Tower."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

She finished gathering her books, shot him a fierce glare, and stormed off. He smirked, and walked in the opposite direction. Being seen following her would ruin their carefully planned scheme. Besides, there were plenty of other ways to get to the Astronomy Tower.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She was there before him, her robe already discarded.

"Couldn't resist me, Granger?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

Two long strides and he was standing in front of her, almost but not quite touching. Slowly, he reached out and tugged sharply at the red ribbon holding her hair back. Brown curls tumbled down over her shoulders and around her face, the way he preferred. She ran her fingers through his hair before kissing him (as a concession to her, he'd stopped wearing hair gel a while ago).

They only had twenty minutes before their next class, so there was no time to waste. He slid one hand under her skirt and removed her knickers, while she unfastened his trousers. His belt dropped to the floor, but that was the only thing she removed completely. He pushed into her with a smooth movement, a practiced movement. They'd done this countless times before, and they both revelled in the thought of it being forbidden. Gryffindor and Slytherin, mudblood and pureblood, none of it mattered when they were like this, fucking each other's brains out in hidden places throughout the school.

It couldn't last, they both knew it and didn't care. She was going to have a glittering career in anything she happened to choose, and he was betrothed to a pureblooded witch. The wedding was arranged for the summer, soon after they left Hogwarts.

For now, thoughts of the future were far from their minds. The only thing they could concentrate on was the approaching climax. Hermione cried out, and he held her close as he followed suit. It took a few minutes for them to recover sufficiently to sort out their appearance. Hermione retrieved her knickers, a scrap of green silk. Draco smiled, approvingly.

"Slytherin colours, I like it."

"You would." She wasn't angry, though. She'd chosen them specifically for him. He couldn't help grimacing at the red ribbon in her hair. "I am a Gryffindor, Malfoy."

"I'm hardly likely to forget it. And you'll be late to class if you don't hurry up."

"Speak for yourself. I'm ready."

Adopting the disdainful expressions they usually wore around each other, they descended the staircase and rejoined the rest of the student population of Hogwarts, knowing their dirty little secret was safe for now.

**AN: I have some vague ideas for turning this into a multi-chapter, if anybody's interested.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Prompt 44 - "two roads". I was overwhelmed by the response I've had to this story, so here's part 2. **

An owl tapped on Hermione's bedroom window, late at night. Quickly, she let it in, taking the note tied hastily to its leg.

"Meet me in the Room of Requirement at 1am."

It wasn't signed, it didn't need to be. She recognised the handwriting immediately. A quick glance at the clock told her she had half an hour. Still, it wouldn't matter if she was a few minutes late. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she sneaked out of her bedroom, down the stairs, through the common room (past Harry and Ron, who were fast asleep in armchairs by the fire), and out of the portrait hole. The Fat Lady wasn't there, which meant getting back in might be a problem. Quietly, Hermione tiptoed down the stairs, remembering to jump the trick step. He was waiting for her, outside the Room of Requirement. Together, they entered.

"I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

"I thought about it. You're getting married in two weeks, we shouldn't be doing this."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He sighed, long and sad. "I don't see why we can't..."

"No, Draco." She held up a hand, cut him off. "I won't do that. You're getting married, and you should be faithful to your wife. I won't be anybody's mistress."

"Somehow, I knew that's what you were going to say." He held out an expensive-looking cream coloured envelope. Curious, she took it. Inside, was...

"...a wedding invitation?"

"I know this is it for us, but I'd appreciate it if you were there. You don't have to, but..." The voice wasn't quite pleading, but wasn't far from it.

"I don't know, Draco. A pureblood wedding? I'd be lucky to survive it."

"Promise me you'll at least consider it."

"I'll consider it." She kissed him on the cheek, making it very clear with the action that he could no longer consider her as a lover. He watched, sadly, as she turned and left the room, without looking back.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hermione had made it seem, to Draco, as though she'd made the decision and that was that. No regrets. The truth was, she'd agonised over what to do. Should she leave him, and learn to cope on her own, maybe find somebody else and fall in love? Could she continue their illicit trysts, knowing he was married and committing adultery? For weeks, she'd thought of almost nothing else, finding it difficult to concentrate on her schoolwork, something highly unusual for her. In the end, though, the choice was obvious. She had to leave Draco, and she had to do it soon, before school ended. Now, it was over. Nobody need ever know about their secret, highly dangerous affair.

Curious, she studied the invitation in her hands. Heavy parchment, flowing, elegant script. Mostly. The space for the invitee's name was filled with Draco's messy scrawl, and there was a note at the bottom, asking her to at least think about it, "for the sake of what we had". It was smudged in one or two places, as though tears had fallen while he'd been writing it. Hermione smiled. It was breaking her heart to leave him, even though they'd made no promises of love. What they'd had was sex, pure and simple.

The decision here was incredibly easy. Hermione turned to the reply slip, picked up her best eagle feather quill (the occasion deserved no less), and penned a swift note. Draco's owl remained perched on the windowsill, so she tied the note to its lef, opened the window and watched the bird fly off into the night.

**AN: Yes, there's more, if anybody wants to read it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: You people amaze me. I never expected to get that many hits and reviews for a short little fic like this. It's overwhelming. So, here's chapter 3, prompt 57 - "Sacrifice". **

**I'm half way through the 100 prompt challenge! **

Draco looked around the room. She wasn't there. She'd promised, in her note, that she would be at his wedding, and she hadn't arrived. Perhaps it was for the best - after all, if he'd seen her, he might have abandoned the ceremony, and his bride, to run away with Hermione Granger. It was too late to back out now. The music was playing, and his bride was walking towards him, resplendent in white dress robes. He forced himself to smile. After all, this was his wedding day and he was supposed to be happy. He took Daphne's hand when she was close enough, all the while wishing he was somewhere else, with a muggleborn who was forbidden to him.

At the back of the room, Hermione Granger sat very still, hardly even daring to breathe. She knew Draco had been trying to locate her, but had been unsuccessful. That meant her glamour charms were working. Instead of curly brown hair and chocolate eyes, she'd given herself short, sleek, blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore formal dress robes, something she hated, because muggle clothes would instantly identify her as not belonging. So far, nobody had spoken to her, which was a great relief. She watched in silence, her heart breaking all over again, as Draco Malfoy married Daphne Greengrass.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At the reception, Draco greeted everybody, thanked them for coming, and tried to remember all the names. Never before had he realised just how many relatives he actually had. A blonde, about his age, caught his eye.

"I'm very sorry to have to ask, but which one of my numerous cousins are you?" He held out his hand, and she shook it, firmly.

"We're not related, Draco."

A voice he hadn't expected to hear again, music to his ears. "Hermione?" he whispered.

"I had to be here, had to see it for myself. Besides, I promised, and I don't break promises."

"I'm so glad you came. Meet me outside, after the speeches. By the fountain."

She wanted to tell him it wasn't possible, wanted to argue with him. But she couldn't. He had guests to attend to, and she didn't want to make a scene. She sipped morosely at a glass of champagne, wondering if she'd sacrificed too much by letting him go. She had no claim on him any longer. Daphne was Mrs Malfoy, and Hermione had far too much self respect to be his mistress.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The speeches seemed to go on forever, although Hermione was certain that it was only because she was waiting to see Draco. She applauded politely along with everybody else, and slipped out, unnoticed, at the end. She sat on the low wall around the fountain, and waited for Draco to appear. It didn't take long.

"I realised, when I was standing there during the ceremony, that you mean more to me than I'd admitted to myself."

"Draco, don't do this. It isn't fair."

"I expect this will be the last time we see each other. Daphne and I are moving abroad. Italy. I'm going to miss you..." He reached out, as if to take her hand, but Hermione pulled away.

"I hope you'll be very happy there. It's a lovely place."

"Hermione, please..." He wasn't sure what he was asking, but she was shaking her head anyway.

"Goodbye, Draco."

She rose, smoothing her skirt, and walked quickly away. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, even when he heard Daphne calling his name. If there had been any remaining doubts, that blew them all away. The girl he should have married was the one who had just disappeared into the darkness, the one who hadn't been interested in romance and the Malfoy name and fortune. He'd made a mistake, and now it was too late.

**AN: There's at least one more chapter to this fic.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: You continue to amaze me with your enthusiasm for this story. Here's chapter 4 (prompt 92 - "all that I have").**

Five years later.

Hermione Granger collapsed into a chair by the fire, and waved to Tom, standing behind the bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

"The usual, Miss Granger?"

"Please."

It was a habit, coming to the Leaky Cauldron after work on Friday nights. It helped her to unwind, though she could never forget about her job completely. Particularly this week. The Minister of Magic had taken a fortnight's holiday, which meant that she, as his deputy, was left to sort out just about everything. She enjoyed it, but the pressure was constant. Even the brightest witch of her generation (a description which caused her to groan every time it was used) needed to stop sometimes. Tom placed a glass on the table in front of her, and she knocked back the Firewhisky in one go. It burned pleasantly as it went down her throat. He hurried back to the bar as a stranger entered. Hermione watched as the man accepted a room key and a drink, then headed in her direction.

"Is this seat taken, Hermione?"

It had been five years since she'd last heard that voice, and he was the last wizard in the world she'd expected to see in the Leaky Cauldron. "Draco Malfoy?"

"The one and only." He laughed, and sank into the other armchair. If she hadn't heard him speak, Hermione would never have recognised him. His hair, always slicked back with masses of gel, was shorter, messy, and completely free of any hair product. Five years in the Italian sunshine had tanned his skin, and he had a healthy glow she'd never seen on any Malfoy. Beside him, she felt tired, worn out.

"What on earth are you doing in London?"

"When Daphne and I split, I decided I missed the place too much, so I came back." He paused, took a mouthful of his drink. "Missed you, as well... Actually, that was the real reason."

"Draco..." For once, Hermione was lost for words. She simply looked at him, noting all the changes since they'd last seen each other. Most importantly was the fact that his wedding ring was gone. There was a faint line of paler skin where it had been. He realised she was looking at it.

"The divorce came through yesterday. I should never have married her, Hermione, I knew that on the day of the wedding."

"Why did you?" She wanted to reach out to him, but she couldn't, not yet.

"It had been arranged by our families, and I couldn't see a way out of it. And you know how hard it is to get a divorce, since you work at the Ministry."

"How would you know that?"

"I do read the Daily Prophet. Particularly when there's a photo of you on the front page."

"How did you manage it, in the end?"

"She was having an affair. We agreed that I would find her in bed with this man. She didn't want to be married to me, either." He paused, looked straight into Hermione's eyes. "That would have bothered me, before. But all I could think about was you, and whether you'd give me another chance." He reached across and took her hand, feeling the familiar calluses where she held her quill. "Will you, Hermione?"

"How could you ever think I wouldn't?" A tear slowly slid down her cheek. "Of course, Draco, of course. You know I'd do anything for you."

The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron were met with an unprecedented sight, as Draco Malfoy stood, took Hermione Granger's hands and pulled her to her feet, before kissing her deeply. The couple had no regard for anybody else around them, didn't care who might be watching or that it would most likely end up in tomorrow's newspapers. The crowd cheered and applauded, causing Hermione to blush when she realised. Draco simply smirked, said, "I should have done this a long time ago," and picked her up.

Bridal style, he carried her through the crowded room and up the stairs. She had to stand while he unlocked the door to the room Tom had assigned him, but he did then carry her in and place her gently on the bed.

"This is a novel experience, for us." Hermione grinned, sprawling out on the sheets.

"I thought we'd be conventional for once, that's all."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Downstairs, they'd become the favourite topic of conversation.

"Never thought I'd see the day, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

"Or Hermione Granger with anybody, for that matter. I always thought that girl was married to her work."

"But a Malfoy, with a muggleborn?"

Concealed in a dimly lit corner, a scroll of parchment was laid out on a table as an acid green quill scratched away. Under a voluminous cloak, Rita Skeeter smiled deviously to herself. Miss Priss wasn't going to be very happy in the morning.

**AN: Before I wrote this chapter, I intended for this to be the end. Then I wrote those last two sentences and realised this story isn't finished yet.**

**Panchat asked about Scorpius. Unfortunately, he won't be making an appearance in this story. As much as I love Scorpius/Rose, they're simply not compatible with Draco/Hermione in my head.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Chapter 5, at long last. Prompt 95 - "Advertisement".**

The newspaper vendor in Diagon Alley hadn't sold so many copies of the Daily Prophet in a single morning since the day Voldemort had been destroyed once and for all. The headline practically screamed at passers-by - "The Malfoy-Granger Affair!", complete with a picture of the reunited couple kissing passionately in the Leaky Cauldron. Rita Skeeter was gloating. She'd been waiting for years to get her revenge on Hermione Granger, and exposing her dubious choice of lover just might have done the trick. The happy couple were yet to appear, though it was obvious to everybody where they were. After all, owls were delivering a lot of letters to a particular bedroom at the Leaky Cauldron, and had been doing so for hours.

"What on earth is going on?" Hermione was astounded to see so many rolls of parchment piling up on the floor. She didn't even know where to begin opening them.

"It would appear, from these, that we have been featured prominently on the front page of today's Daily Prophet." Draco, having glanced over a few of the letters, had surmised the situation.

"But how?"

"Isn't there a reporter with a vendetta against you?"

"Rita Skeeter, I suppose, but..." Realisation hit like a blow to the head. "She saw us. She must have done. This is exactly the sort of thing she'd do - better than taking out a bloody billboard advertisement." Years of associating with Ron Weasley was clearly making its mark on Hermione. She'd scolded him for his language since they were eleven years old, and now she was using the exact same words.

"Better than a... what?"

"You don't know what a billboard is? No, I suppose you wouldn't. Muggle thing, don't worry about it."

"I think we need to get out of here, quickly."

"You're right. But where?"

"I was hoping you'd have a suggestion. I've only just arrived back in the country, after all."

Hermione sighed. "My house it is." She held out a hand to him, which he grasped tightly. Together, they apparated.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I hate side-along apparation." Draco groaned, clutching his stomach.

"Only way I could think of. Sorry." She wasn't, but he didn't feel up to arguing about it. Letters were piling up on the doormat here, too, and he decided the best thing to do would be to start reading. He'd just settled down when a loud ringing noise made him jump.

"It's only the phone, Draco." Hermione picked up the contraption she'd called a "phone", and the noise stopped. "Hello?"

"Care to explain why there's a photo of you snogging Draco Malfoy on the front page of the Prophet?"

"Good morning to you too, Harry."

"Good morning, Hermione. Now, you'd better explain before Ron explodes. He's going very red in the face."

"It's quite a long story. Come round and I'll tell it to you. But Ron has to keep away from Draco."

"Draco? Malfoy's at your house?"

"Yes, he is."

"I see. Be there in a few minutes. Bye."

Hermione took a deep breath. It was time to face the music and confess all to her two best friends.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: The end, finally, of "Temptation" (I know, I know, nearly a year after I last updated). If only you knew what my life has been like since then...**

**Prompt 72 - "Mischief managed".**

The doorbell shrilled out, startling Draco and Hermione out of each other's arms. Taking a deep breath, Hermione straightened her posture, shook back her hair and went to open the door. She had nothing to be ashamed of, she told herself. She could explain to Harry and Ron, she could make them understand that this wasn't just a fling, wasn't just sex. It had started like that, sure, but had turned into so much more, surprising even herself.

Steeling her nerves, she opened the door, and was immediately bombarded by Ron's indignant yelling.

"Malfoy, Hermione, honestly! What possessed you? Are you Imperiused? Did he force you to... you know... do things?"

"Silencio." Ron's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. "Sorry about that, Hermione. I did tell him not to do it, but you know what he's like." Harry Potter's messy hair was just visible over Ron's shoulder.

"You'd better come in, both of you." Hermione stepped aside so they could enter. "Ron, I'm warning you. I won't hesitate to use Petrificus Totalis if I have to. Stay away from Draco."

While she'd been out of the room, Draco had sat down in the armchair. Hermione joined him, leaving Ron and Harry to share the sofa. Ron glared, his face bright red, but simply sat down. Still silenced, he was unable to protest when Draco's arm slid around Hermione's waist.

"When did all this begin, Hermione?"

"Seventh year at Hogwarts." She grinned at the shocked expressions. "Didn't expect that, did you?"

"Wow. It's... it's serious, then. Hang on, Malfoy, didn't you get married just after Hogwarts?"

It took hours to relate the story, with Harry asking questions throughout. The colour of Ron's face gradually changed from red back to normal as he realised Hermione hadn't been under the influence of a spell, and as it became clear that Draco Malfoy really did care about her.

"What are you going to do about Rita Skeeter? She's after your blood, you know."

"Rita Skeeter has wanted revenge on me since the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year. She thinks she's managed it this time. She's embarrassed me, yes, but I'm not ashamed of being with Draco. I think a letter to the Daily Prophet is in order, don't you?"

The mischievous glint in Hermione's eyes spelled danger for the journalist in question. Harry didn't know what she was planning, but he was sure of one thing. It was going to be good.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hermione's letter, sent to the Prophet in response to Rita Skeeter's article, was amusing and cutting in equal measure. Without overtly insulting the woman, it made her look like a complete and utter idiot. Published on the front page, where it couldn't be ignored, it also announced that they would be getting married the following summer.

The proposal had come as a massive surprise to Hermione, but just as she sat down to write her letter, Draco dropped to one knee beside her. "I love you, Hermione Granger, I've loved you for years. Will you marry me?"

**AN: I'm not totally happy with this, but it's finished.**


End file.
